


chase my blood from brain to thumped heart

by interropunct



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Friends to Lovers, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mildly Dubious Consent, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-08 01:23:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6833122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interropunct/pseuds/interropunct
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daichi was a good friend, a great captain... and kind of a shitty omega. But Suga's a good friend too and he's willing to help out.</p><p>Or, a DaiSuga ABO fic in ten parts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	chase my blood from brain to thumped heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Akku](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akku/gifts).



> Thanks to [Elieen](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Uglysweater/) for a quick beta read, any additional mistakes are my own.
> 
> The dub-con tag is just to be safe because I know some people think all heat sex falls under that category but if you're worried about it feel free to message me and we can talk.
> 
> Title song ("The Lighting Strike" by Snow Patrol) and basic plot come from [Sarah](http://neiljosten.tumblr.com/) who I dragged into ABO tropes and who then proceeded to come up with the best ideas for Haikyuu ABO AU. My only possible response was to write this fic for her. Love you <3

3.

Daichi had never expected to become captain. He knew, on his good days, that the soon-to-be second years respected him. He knew he was a solid player. Suga and Asahi had always followed his lead on the court. And volleyball was one of the few places he felt confident being in the lead. When he made a good receive or got angry enough to snap at Tanaka for goofing off, no one told him to be careful, to hold his peace. No one, either in word or action or sideways glance told him that a good omega was seen and not heard, was supportive and helpful and did not  _ demand,  _ much less  _ command _ .

Still, he had always assumed Asahi, who despite his meek personality was an alpha and their ace, was the obvious choice. But then, tail end of second year, Asahi broke down under the pressure. He ran away from the threat of the Iron Wall and all the team’s expectations. And suddenly there was a hole where his quiet presence used to be. And a simultaneously smaller and so much larger gap when Noya followed him. And in that power vacuum he felt a push unlike the usual societal pressures to do and be more like a proper example of an omega. Instead it was a pressure to step up and take control and keep this team that meant so much to him together no matter what.

By the time the captain was chosen by popular vote he didn’t even feel unprepared. Surprised: a little still, despite every time Suga had told him this would happen. Honored: completely, especially at Suga’s hand raising itself first and highest. But not worried. If he couldn’t be a good omega he could at least be a good captain, and maybe that would be enough for him.

* * *

 

4.

“It should have been you,” Daichi told Suga on their way to Suga’s house after practice. Suga had said his mom had got shoyu ramen, Daichi’s favorite, in celebration.

“No it shouldn’t.”

“Yes,” Daichi said, because he couldn’t let it go. “Everyone looks up to you. You took care of the first years this season and-”

“And so did you.” Even when interrupting, Suga was gentle. “Everyone respects you as much as they do me, Daichi. Not to mention you’re better at keeping them in line.”

“Yeah,” Daichi said, rather grudgingly. Suga was being obtuse on purpose.

“Tell me one thing that makes me a better candidate than you,” Suga said stopping them with a hand on Daichi’s shoulder.

_ Because you’re an alpha _ , Daichi thought, but he had heard the steel in Suga’s voice. He was daring Daichi to bring up their alignment so he could tear it down. Suga hated that essentialist shit even more than Daichi did, and he was somehow much better at not internalizing it.

“Fine,” Daichi said, giving up, and putting his other hand up on Suga’s shoulder so they were facing each other. “I’ll make an excellent captain and I’ll lead us all the way to nationals.”

Suga smiled, slow and warm. “I couldn’t agree more.”

* * *

 

1.

Maturation, as every kid learned in their elementary school health class, happened at different ages for everyone. Most students began to present their alignment as young teenagers with hormonal changes and differences in scent becoming noticeable. Alphas generally matured fastest with behavioral changes evident by late middle school and rut starting as early as the first year of high school. Omegas on the other hand developed more slowly and heat usually didn’t start until the third year of high school if not later.

Daichi presented late. He didn’t show any signs of alignment through middle school, and so, it was assumed that he was a beta, because betas’ subtle scent and slight hormonal changes were known to only mature in late teens and early twenties. Daichi was happy to accept that he’d be a beta. He felt it fit him: dependable but unremarkable, maybe a little bit boring.

But having two alphas for best friends did leave it’s mark. He liked to imagine, in early middle school when it became clear that Asahi and Suga were alphas, that he was just a late bloomer, that any day now he would come to school and his friends could catch a whiff of his unique alpha scent and they would look at him with new deference and respect and understanding.

He would force himself to remember that three alphas being friends was rarely a recipe for mutual respect and would more likely lead to posturing and aggressive standoffs if not outright fights. The only reason Suga and Asahi didn’t have any issues was because Asahi always deferred to Suga and Suga in turn never even acknowledged the power differential.

As it turned out, Daichi was a late bloomer. But when he began to present his alignment in the first year of high school, he was as far as you could get from being an alpha.

* * *

 

2.

“I’ve got it!” Daichi yelled, getting a chance to actually use the receive he’d been practicing in a 3-on-3 match for the first time.

Exercise enhanced everything. Tracking the ball with his eyes made Daichi aware of every twitch and shuffle of his opponents. The sting of ball hitting his arms made his skin tingle not just there but all over. He could hear every puff of breath out of his teammates’ mouths. And thick in his nose was Suga and Asahi’s scents. The other scents were there too, but more distant, not as familiar, not as comforting. Suga in particular, even with sweat dripping off his nose, smelled like dust and petrichor.

“Nice kill!” Suga and Daichi said, one after the other, as Asahi hit a spike past the upperclassmen.

The three of them made a good team and they kept the score pretty even through most of the match. But they were still first-years, not used to keeping up with high schoolers, so as the set wore on they began to lag behind, just one or two points. Then a bit more.

They ended up losing by five points and Daichi put aside his disappointment to listen to the critique from their coach and captain.

“Well,” the coach said firmly, “losers clean the gym. Lock up when you’re finished.” He was about to throw the keys to Daichi but at the last minute tossed them to Suga instead who almost dropped them. “Need to work on that receive,” he joked before filing out with their teammates.

“You did really well, Asahi,” Daichi said as the two of them lowered the net and began to roll it up. He knew Asahi tended to take losses the most seriously of all of them. “Your spike is probably the best on the team.”

Asahi just shrugged, his mind seemingly on other things. “Suga,” he said after a moment, “do you smell that?”

Suga stopped collecting balls and paused to scent the air. “No I don’t smell anything.” But as they all crowded in the storage room to put away the supplies and get the mops Suga stopped again. “Wait, I do. It’s stronger in here.”

Daichi tried to smell for anything but betas were notorious for having poor senses of smell, it was a wonder he could even smell Suga and Asahi so clearly.

“It’s… sweet.” Asahi said slowly, almost as if he could make the words not true if he kept them in long enough.

Suga and Daichi froze. Everyone knew that omegas’ scents were sweet. But it wasn’t possible. There was just the three of them here. There weren’t even any omegas on the team.

Daichi looked over at Suga. Asahi was the most scent sensitive, but he could still be wrong. Suga’s nostrils flared just slightly and then he closed his eyes, as if to shield Daichi from the truth.

“Well,” Daichi said, forcing his voice into steadiness through pure will alone. “Shit.”

* * *

 

5.

Even two years later he knew there were rumors. An omega being best friends with two alphas wasn’t so strange, this was the 21st century after all. But few cross-alignment friendships were as close as theirs. The three of them eating lunch together, making no secret of spending time at each other’s houses, coming out of the gym after practice sweaty and reeking of mixed pheromones. Daichi had never actually heard the words spoken, but he knew the kinds of things omegas got called if they seemed to be getting too close to an alpha, much less multiple alphas, even if they hadn’t started their heats yet. 

There was a reason all omegas were required to be on birth control “just in case”. Because really, everyone knew that omegas were desperate and willing to spread it around with anyone even when heat had nothing to do with it. 

Daichi thought that was a load of bullshit and if he caught someone giving him a knowing glance he wouldn’t hesitate to meet their eyes and stare them down until they were the ones looking away sheepishly.

Still, he was glad in a sense that he’d presented so late. It meant that he probably had a few extra years before his heat caught up with him. Because honestly, when the time came, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do. Heats without an alpha were uncomfortable at best and dangerous at worse. Omegas had been known to injure themselves in their crazed attempts to escape confinement and get to the nearest available alpha. In the haze of unaided heat omegas could go three or more days without eating or drinking, leaving them dangerously dehydrated after their heat left them.

The entire thing made Daichi almost sick to think about. He didn’t want his heat to ever happen, and he definitely didn’t want to weather it alone… for many reasons.

* * *

 

6.

“Suga.” They were studying at Daichi’s house but he’d finished his work 20 minutes ago. His parents were getting groceries and the house was empty and still.

“Mm-hm?” Suga said, not looking up from his notes.

“How’s rut?”

Suga’s head jerked up, eyes wide. “What?”

“You miss class and practice for three days every month or so. I know it's the polite thing to say but I don’t think anyone actually thinks you're sick.”

“Oh.”

“I know it’s none of my business. I’m just… curious.” Daichi couldn’t quite meet Suga’s eyes, so he watched the tips of his ears turn the slightest pink. The silence stretched. “Nevermind, forget it. You don’t have to tell me.”

“It’s fine,” Suga said, shoulders relaxing and shaking his head a little as though shaking off a stray thought. “It was… strange, at first. Like playing volleyball for three days straight, except I was the only player on my side of the court. So I just kept setting the ball for myself over and over. But I couldn’t spike it, I couldn’t do anything. And the other side’s score kept going up but I had the adrenaline as if it was the end of a close set the whole time.”

“Were you scared?” Daichi found himself asking, because he’d come this far and if anyone would admit to it it would be Suga.

“Before the first time, a little. During, no. And these days... not really, ‘cause now I know I can handle it.”

“I’m terrified.” And that much he had definitely not meant to say. But now it was out and Suga was looking more alarmed than Daichi had thought he would. It wasn’t so strange to be scared of heat, was it?

But then Suga spoke. “Of me?”

“No, no, of course not,” because even if it was a way out of this conversation he’d stupidly started, he wasn’t going to take it at the cost of Suga looking like that. “Of  _ me _ . Of heat.”

The alarm on Suga’s face shifted to relief for barely a second before moving on toward worry.

“Why?” he asked carefully, and this was Daichi’s best friend. They had been best friends for so long. They had no secrets from each other. Or almost none. Daichi could tell him this,  _ wanted  _ to tell him this.

“You’ve heard the same stories I have, Suga, people just losing it, hurting themselves, sleeping with anyone and regretting it later. And even if nothing goes wrong it sounds brutal, just wanting and wanting and not getting what you need for days, and you can’t think about anything else, can’t even  _ eat _ . God, Suga, I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to go through that.”

There was silence and tension and too much truth in the air. Daichi didn’t feel any better, still felt like he was choking on his own fear of the unknown.

“You know, it could be years before you have your first heat.” 

Suga had his comforting voice on.

“I know.”

“And by then you’ll probably have found someone.”

Daichi didn’t know about this ‘probably’ business.

“But what if I haven’t. What if I’m in college and I don’t know anyone, don’t have anyone to call, don’t-”

“You could call me,” Suga said, and Daichi couldn’t read his voice, wasn’t sure if he’d even heard correctly.

“What?”

“I mean, of course, only if- only if you wanted to. Only if you needed someone and you hadn’t found anyone yet.”

The thunderhead of panic suddenly burst and out poured: relief, awe, and something almost like joy.

“You would do that for me?”

“Of course.” And it almost sounded like he wanted to say something more. But he didn’t.

“Thank you, Suga.” He sighed. “Thank you so much.”

“Well, you’ll probably never take me up on it,” Suga said, smiling reassuringly.

* * *

 

0.

Here was the thing about Sugawara Koushi: he was Daichi’s best friend, had been since they were little kids. Their parents still joked that they were the most responsible and rule-abiding pair of children you could ask for. In that way they suited each other, they were both mature for their age and more interested in reading and puzzle books than they were in tearing up their quiet neighborhood.

And then, in junior high Daichi had discovered volleyball and Suga had faithfully followed him into that particular passion. But the thing was for friends as close as them, teammates was actually a step back, a step apart. Daichi started calling Suga by a version of his family name and Suga turned Dai-chan back into Daichi; they started clapping each other on the back instead of hugging, started practicing volleyball in the street instead of reading together on one small bed.

Daichi couldn't say Suga’s alignment had nothing to do with it.

But here was the other thing about Sugawara Koushi: Daichi loved him, had since they were little kids. But it was love of the stable, quiet, reasonable kind, to match everything else about Daichi. And so when Suga presented as an alpha Daichi carefully set it aside. Suga would find an omega mate, who would make him very happy. And he would always have Daichi, the dependable beta, best friend from his childhood.

And the door in his mind which opened onto thoughts of Suga, of Suga and him, of everything they could have been for each other... closed, not with a slam but with a quiet click.

* * *

 

7.

“Quit that, I’m not going to die,” Daichi said, with a hint of his well-known temper. Hinata, Noya and Tanaka had been swarming him for the last fifteen minutes of practice ever since he had to take a break after an intense round of drills.

He was fine. Really. It’s just that it was warm out today and he’d overheated. It wasn’t unusual. Sure, it hadn’t happened the entire time they were at practice camp, but that didn’t mean anything. He just hadn’t had enough water today. He tried to tell himself that. But, well...

Daichi was not prone to catastrophizing about his health. If you listened to Suga he went a bit too far in the opposite direction. But even he had to admit his body had been off the last few days: overheating or breaking out in a cold sweat at seemingly random times, cramps and mood swings. 

And he wasn’t an idiot. It wasn't as though he hadn’t researched the signs of oncoming heat, knew them off the top of his head by now. But he also knew that heat wouldn’t truly start until the adrenaline kicked in and his heart started racing. The problem was, his heart rate had naturally elevated during practice, but now that he’d been sitting down for a while it hadn’t slowed and he was getting worried. He needed to get home soon. But practice was over now and he wasn’t going to skip out on cleaning up. So he put it off a little longer, sweating and breathing carefully through his mouth so it wasn’t obvious that he was panting.

When they got to the club room though, he changed clothes as quickly as possible. His scent would have begun changing by now and if any of the others noticed it would lead to a very awkward conversation.

He practically ran the entire way home, couldn’t think about anything but getting safely  _ away _ . His father was out of town on business and his mother was working the overnight shift at the hospital so the house was empty when he got in. He made it as far as his room before he collapsed.

Technically, heat was a purely physical process. Or at least, no legitimate research had been done into the neurological symptoms of heat because most omegas in heat couldn’t sit still long enough for a brain scan or anything like that.

Right now all he knew was that his legs were too weak to hold him up, his heart was racing and he could feel slick starting to gather at his entrance. But more importantly he  _ felt desperate _ . 

He needed something or better yet some _ one _ inside him right now or he was going to… he didn’t know. Have a heart attack. Start yelling and not stop. Scratch his own skin until it bled. That's what it felt like.

He was so hard.

He couldn’t breathe.

Every muscle in his body was tense enough that his thighs shook where they were holding him up on his knees.

It was like every ounce of feeling inside, both physical and emotional, was spilling out and soaking him through.

His eyes stung not because he was sad but because he was frustrated and horny and alone when all he wanted was someone there with him. 

He knew he wasn’t thinking clearly, knew that he should just wait it out. But the next three days stretched on interminably, just him and his body betraying him, alone trapped in his own mind.

Suga. That's who he wanted. If he could just have Suga here talking him through it he'd manage, he was sure of it.

With great effort he got his phone out of his bag and dragged himself up onto the bed. He hated feeling so weak, so needy and pathetic but if anyone could help, if there was anyone who he didn't mind seeing him like this, it was Suga.

“Hey,” Suga said when he picked up, already sounding worried. “You left really quickly after practice, are you feeling alright?”

The sound of his voice was soothing. Yes, this had been the right decision.

“Daichi?”

He realized he hadn't said anything.

“Can you come over? I need someone with me right now,” Daichi said.

Suga deserved more than that, deserved an explanation, but before Daichi could work himself up to saying the words, Suga was talking.

“Of course. I'm on my way, I'll be there in 5 minutes. Don't bother getting up to let me in, I remember where the spare key is.”

And then silence. It took Daichi an agonizingly long second to realize Suga had hung up and when he did he couldn't help letting out a deep whine at the loss of Suga’s voice in his ear.

It was fine. Five minutes. He could stand five minutes alone. Except his breaths were heavy and ragged and his body itched with desire. But every time he squirmed, trying to get comfortable, his skin stung where it rubbed against his suddenly rough clothes. Everything was heightened, he swore he could hear the clock ticking in the living room and he could smell himself now, the sweet dark scent hanging heavy in the air and crawling into his lungs until he thought he was going to choke on it.

Finally, he felt more than heard someone at the door, felt the key rasp in the lock and felt the thunk of the deadbolt sliding back echo in his skull. He didn't even remember locking the door, his body had done it on instinct.

The steady beat of feet against the hall floor helped for a moment, slowed his heart to match the pace of the gentle thumps. Then it stopped and there was a loud knock at his bedroom door.

“Daichi? Are you in there? Can I come in?”

“Yes,” Daichi groaned, an answer to every question Suga could ask. He was so desperately relieved to hear Suga’s voice.

The door opened and Daichi’s eyes snapped open. When did he close them? Regardless, he caught the look on Suga’s face as the smell hit him. His pupils blew wide and dark, his mouth dropped open and his lungs sucked in a deep breath.  Daichi still had enough logic to know that was all a basic, instinctive response, that it didn't mean anything. But he still felt a primal thrill knowing he could have that kind of effect on Suga.

Then Suga took a step back and Daichi's heart plummeted.

“Da-daichi?” Suga said and he looked shocked now and almost frightened.

“I don't want- I'm not asking- please Suga.” Fuck he sounded desperate, he  _ was _ desperate, but he couldn't push Suga into anything he didn't want. “I just- I want someone here with me. You don't have to do anything. Just, sit with me?”

“Yeah.” Suga said immediately and that at least was a relief. “Yeah, of course.”

Daichi moved over on the bed to make room, grimacing at the places sweat, or worse slick, made his clothes cling to him.

Suga walked across the room slowly and sat gingerly, as if afraid to disturb the air. As he got closer Daichi caught his scent, and he'd never smelled anything so perfect.

Usually Suga smelled like a summer afternoon, dry and warm and comforting, like rain on dusty driveways washing away chalk drawings. Now he smelled like the middle of a heatwave, hot and sticky with a hint of ozone as if a storm was about to break. Daichi wanted to curl up inside that smell and never leave.

He didn't feel so awful, now that Suga was here. He was still sensitive and aching with want but at least he could focus on Suga: on his hand resting beside Daichi's on the bed, close enough to feel the warmth; on Suga's breathing which was a bit deeper and slower than his own.

“How are you doing?” Suga asked finally and his voice sounded careful.

Daichi let out a little huff of air. “Not great,” he said, honestly. “I feel like my skin’s on fire.” 

Suga frowned and without hesitation brought a hand up to feel Daichi's forehead.

At the contact Daichi let out a little noise, somewhere between a hum and a whine, and leaned into the touch.

“Oh.” Suga said, and then, “yes you are hot.” But he didn't take his hand away, instead he ran his hand gently over Daichi's hair. “Is this okay?” he asked.

“Yes. Please.”

He did it again, this time fingers carded through Daichi’s hair, catching a little on damp tangles.

“Talk to me? Say something? It doesn’t matter what,” Daichi found himself saying because touch wasn’t enough, smell wasn’t enough, he wanted to hear Suga, he wanted anything Suga was willing to give him.

“Oh-kay,” Suga said, word drawn out uncertainly. And then he started to describe the book he was reading at the moment. Daichi had heard of it but not read it before, had been hoping to borrow it when Suga was finished with it. Now he just tuned out the words and focused on the gentle rise and fall of intonation.

They continued on like that for awhile, Daichi lying down and Suga sitting beside him slowly petting his hair, talking into the tense air. At first it was good, or at least it was bearable, better than being alone, but after a while it started to feel like the tide was coming in. And he had already been waist deep in feelings and desires but now the need was tugging at his chest, lapping at his neck, filling his nose and it smelled like Suga and safety.

He became aware, dimly that he had begun rocking his hips in little circles. He tried to make himself stop, suddenly embarrassed, hoping Suga hadn't noticed, knowing that at this distance there was no way he hadn't. But stopping just made him more aware of the way his hole clenched around nothing every time Suga's hand pulled away from his hair.

He wanted Suga to touch him. Everywhere. Wanted gentle strokes down his side and nuzzling at his neck, and fingers buried in him. But mostly he wanted to get fucked. Just thinking the word, thinking about Suga buried in him, pressing him down into the bed, knotting him, and Daichi let out a little moan.

“I'm sorry,” he said, as soon as he could manage after the sound faded. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be sorry.” Suga swallowed. “What do you want Daichi? Anything at all.”

Seemingly unconsciously his hand had stilled in Daichi’s hair, fingers curled so they tugged just a little.

“Don't offer that,” Daichi said, openly panting now. But he couldn't stop himself. He curled on his side around Suga, pressing his erection into Suga's back and whining at the pressure. “You can't give me that.”

“Why not? I mean, if you don't want anything, I can go.” Daichi let out a wordless protest at that, more demanding than desperate. “Or, I can just stay and keep you company, but if you want more… I mean it. I'm offering.”

“Why?” And Daichi meant: why is this happening? Why are you so good to me? Why are you willing to risk what we have for this? Why am I?

“Because I want to take care of you,” Suga said, as if it was the easiest answer in the world. 

And whatever was holding Daichi back snapped. His hand, which had been resting between them, bunched in Suga's shirt and Daichi used it to tug Suga down and into a kiss.

It felt like thunder. Suga moaned against his lips and Daichi felt it through his entire body.

“Please, please,” he said frantically between hot, open mouthed kisses. Suga hummed soothingly into Daichi's mouth as he maneuvered himself over Daichi, who arched up, trying to get closer.

Part of him was still aware of how needy he was acting, how embarrassing it was. But that part was drowned under the sensation of Suga's hand slipping under his shirt and palming his stomach, scratching gently down his side.

“Come on. It's okay. Just have to get you out of these clothes. Can't do anything with these in the way.” And it was right into Daichi's ear, breath hot.

Daichi groaned.

“I  _ know _ that,” he felt the need to insist. But he still couldn't seem to remove his hands from Suga long enough to get his shirt off.

Suga laughed a little and gently pried Daichi's hands from where they were curled, one at the back of Suga's neck, thumb brushing the soft downy hairs there, the other at the small of Suga's back.

Slowly, carefully, Suga pinned Daichi's hands on the pillow over his head.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, and something about his voice made Daichi suddenly aware of how Suga's fingers shook minutely where they wrapped around Daichi's wrists.

“Completely,” he said, instantly, not a hint of doubt.

Suga smiled then, small and happy. And for a moment it was sweet, almost innocent. And then Suga grasped Daichi's wrists a little tighter.

“Then stay,” he said, and let go. So Daichi stayed with his hands over his head as Suga guided his shirt up and carefully tugged it past his hands. He stayed as Suga pulled back to get at Daichi's pants and underwear, pulling them down gently. As soon as they were off Daichi's legs fell apart and he thrust up into nothing.

Suga got off the bed completely and Daichi swore. Daichi very rarely swore. Suga was probably one of the few people who had ever heard it. Usually it made him blush, because Suga wasn't much for swearing either. But this time he smiled and his eyes were dark and he looked ready to eat Daichi alive.

He quickly got out of his own clothes and settled back between Daichi's thighs. But there was still a distance between them, only touching thigh to thigh with Suga holding himself up on his hands so Daichi felt comfortably… contained.

Then Suga took a steadying breath, and Daichi mirrored him and their chests brushed and Suga sank down onto his forearms. A position that pressed them together from thigh to shoulders and left Daichi writhing at the sudden increase in sensation.

He realized he was making noise as well, little bitten off sounds that had the cadence of pleas. Suga put all his weight on one forearm and used the other hand to carefully stroke the side of Daichi’s face.

“Shh, shh, is it too much?”

Daichi could feel Suga’s breath on his face and it was wholly too much and also not nearly enough.

“N-no, but you should move.”

Suga smiled and complied, thrusting against Daichi so that their cocks slid together where they were trapped between their stomachs. Daichi didn't make a sound but he did breathe in so sharply it could possibly be called a gasp.

His skin was hot again, but it wasn't unpleasant this time. Instead of burning from the inside out, it was like standing a little too close to an open fire so your skin goes tight but you've been cold for so long that you just inch closer anyway. Suga was a flame that would warm and warm but never burn.

Suga kept moving, rocking and grinding and driving Daichi crazy. And then he paused to adjust their position slightly. He put one leg on the outside of Daichi’s and with the other he pressed  _ up _ .

Daichi's back arched and he groaned as Suga's thigh parted his cheeks and brushed against his sensitive hole. He was barely self-aware enough to hear Suga say, faintly, “Jesus Christ,” but that was enough for Daichi to suddenly be very conscious of how wet he was, how slick and wanton, and his face burned.

But Suga didn't move away, instead he pressed more firmly forward while Daichi tried to stay still.

“Come on Dai, do it. Think you- can you can get off just working yourself on my leg?”

And this time it was Suga whose face was burning and the words came out shaky but Daichi had never heard anything so hot. So he did it, pride be damned. He began rocking back so his hole rubbed against Suga's firm, muscled thigh and forward so his dick slid against Suga's stomach.

It was said that omegas could only get off during heat if they were knotted. Daichi didn't know if that was true, sources conflicted, but he did know that with Suga's leg bent under him and Daichi's back arched so they pressed together, with Suga's scent around him and Suga's tongue now delicately finding its way back into his mouth, with all of that, Daichi certainly felt ready to come at any moment.

So he kept moving, thrusts turning uneven and hurried while Suga took his time exploring Daichi's mouth. Eventually Daichi dropped his head to the side so he could pant. And as his orgasm built up inside him his breaths started to hitch.

Finally, Suga hummed encouragingly against his throat and Daichi came like a dam opening. He wasn't sure if he made noise, his ears were too filled with the rushing sound of his pulse. He wasn't aware of much at all really except the full body throb of his orgasm leaving him.

Suga pulled back a little and Daichi forced his hands to loosen their death-grip on the sheets and reach up to stop Suga from pulling away completely. Suga subsided at the touch.

Still he kept a careful distance between their bodies and used a corner of the sheet to wipe up Daichi’s come. Then Suga was quiet and still for a moment.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

Daichi nodded fuzzily, not quite up to forming words just yet.

“Do you want me to leave?” Suga asked, voice completely neutral and that penetrated the fog.

“No. Definitely not. Suga-” He could still feel the heat haze lurking in the back of his mind. He knew now that he could get off without a knot. Theoretically he could get through this with just his own two hands to help. But honestly he wanted nothing more than to keep Suga as close as possible. If not even closer than that. “I want you to stay,” he said finally and Suga blinked slowly, before his lips twitched into a slightly bemused smile. “And I’d  _ really _ like to have sex now,” Daichi said, emboldened by the firm press of Suga's hard cock against his hip.

Suga dropped his head forward, nuzzled into the crook of Daichi's neck and then licked and kissed his way slowly up to Daichi's ear.

“We can do that.” he whispered then and Daichi huffed out something that was half laugh, half sigh of relief. His cock was already most of the way hard again just from the proximity of their bodies and the feel of Suga's lips on his neck.

But then Suga slid out of Daichi's arms to sit back on his haunches between Daichi's legs and Daichi felt a pang of worry.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

One of Suga’s hands trailed down his chest while the other hooked under Daichi's knee to push his leg up to his chest.

“I'm prepping you,” Suga said as his free hand reached down past his balls to his hole.

“Do you need to do that?” Daichi asked, a little surprised. He was already slick, he assumed the rest of it just sorted itself out.

Suga paused.

“I-I don't know,” Suga said, so obviously unsure of himself for the first time. And Daichi suddenly remembered that neither of them had done this before. Suga didn't know what to do any more than Daichi did. “I mean, I just assumed.”

They both stared at each other, considering.

Daichi was about to open his mouth, although he hadn't actually decided what he was going to say yet, when Suga spoke, voice soft.

“Do you feel tight?” He twitched his fingers where they brushed Daichi's hole.

Of all the things, those words and that motion made Daichi blush deeply. But he saw an answering redness on the tips of Suga’s ears so he forced himself to consider the question.

The feeling of Suga's fingers rubbing over the rim of his asshole made him tense automatically and yeah maybe prep was a good idea after all.

“Yeah,” Daichi said and his voice was breathy but steady.

“Okay, then relax.” And with the tip of one finger he pushed slightly at the rim so wetness slid out and down onto his waiting fingers. He gathered the slick and with the same finger pressed in.

It was tight. God it was tight. Suga’s finger slid smoothly but it still wasn’t easy, made Daichi shiver with the wet drag as Suga pressed forward until he couldn’t go any further.

“You’re not relaxed.” Suga said, sounding worried. “You’re way to tense.”

Daichi felt exposed and sensitive and he almost said ‘I’m sorry’ but before he got the words out Suga seemed to hear them and he bent back down. It put his wrist at an awkward angle but he carefully kissed up Daichi’s chest until he got to a nipple which he licked over with the flat of his tongue.

And then he said, almost a question, “Relax,” so that the air from the word cooled Daichi’s nipple and caused it to harden.

“Fuck,” Daichi swore again, as Suga began to slide his finger out and in, little thrusts as his tongue curled around Daichi’s peaked nipple.

It still felt strange, that movement in and out, the tug at his rim. But it felt good too. Sensations all layered up and mixing until it was just this side of too much. And then Suga added a second finger and for a moment it tipped over into definitely too much and Daichi flinched away even though there was nowhere to go.

Suga froze. For a moment the room was totally still besides the rise and fall of their chests. And then Suga's free hand started making tiny comforting circles on the ridge of Daichi's hip. So slow, so gentle. So completely like Suga, to take something that by all accounts was usually about animal urges and turn it into one friend supporting another.

Daichi opened his eyes as his body slowly relaxed. Suga was looking at him with what was clearly meant to be a neutral expression, although Daichi could see the worry clear as day.

And suddenly it clicked, the concern in his eyes, the uncertainty earlier, it wasn't just first-time nerves, Suga was unsure about being in the lead. And if Daichi was reading him right, he didn't really like it. It was traditional: the alpha being in control especially when the omega was so caught up in heat that he couldn't even think. But the first orgasm had cleared his head a bit and Daichi could see now how uncomfortable Suga was with being totally in charge of Daichi's first heat experience. And there was no real reason it had to be that way.

“Thank you,” Daichi said and it was like thanking him for playing a good game, earnest and in control. It was what Tanaka had termed his “captain voice” even before he'd been made captain. “Now move,” he said, and shifted his hips to bear down on Suga’s fingers.

Suga looked surprised at first, blinked quickly a few times. But he did as he was told, thrusting his fingers shallowly. Daichi gripped him by the shoulders and just focused on how their bodies moved, on syncing them up exactly, eyes closed in concentration but feeling more at ease now.

“Stretch me,” he said, and it wasn’t an order, he’d never been the kind of captain to order people around much. It was more like a firm suggestion. Like Daichi at five years old on the playground at school telling a worried-looking Suga that he could go down the big kids’ slide like their classmates as long as he bent his knees to keep his balance at the bottom. It was how things were supposed to be and somehow his body knew it because there was little resistance when Suga scissored his fingers.

It felt good again. Felt like they fit together and the pleasure overrode the strangeness, the oddity of Suga naked and Suga hard and Suga with two fingers inside him. It didn’t take long for Daichi to murmur encouragement that had Suga adding a third finger. And that was still difficult, still made Daichi clench his teeth. But it was in determination now, not just discomfort. Suga hovered over him, free hand supporting himself and breaths cooling the sweat on Daichi’s chest.

As he relaxed into it and his slick eased the way everything began to get hazy again, lust and heat returning in full force. But he didn’t lose himself to it this time. He had to keep his head on straight so Suga didn’t feel like he was the only party in his right mind here. And so he noticed that something was still off. He scrunched up his face, trying to figure out what it was.

“Are you okay?” Suga asked, just as Daichi realized the problem: Suga’s shoulders beneath Daichi’s hands were coiled tight and tense, just like his voice. 

Daichi opened his eyes.

Suga eyes darted down then up again and his cheeks were flushed with nerves. Clearly he hadn’t given up control yet, still felt all the pressure of the situation hanging on his actions.

Daichi slid his hands from Suga’s shoulders up into his hair and gently tugged him down. The kiss was slow and sensuous, careful and controlled with just a hint of searing heat. With his hands still in Suga’s hair Daichi drew him back by the smallest bit, so their lips barely brushed.

“I’m here. This is me.”

“I know.” And if anything he sounded more worried.

“We’ll be fine. I’ve got you. Let me do this.” And it was such a role reversal from a few minutes before but now it felt right, now it felt like Daichi could find some power in his powerlessness and take control of how this went. Suga seemed to see it in his eyes because he relaxed.

“You’re sure?” Suga asked one last time. And Daichi had had enough of that. He leaned up and bit at Suga’s lips, kissed him messy and dirty and fucked himself on the three fingers in his ass. Every part of him hummed in approval.

“In this moment I have never been more sure of anything, than that you should fuck me,” Daichi said, voice firm.

Suga buried a smile in the crook of Daichi’s neck and withdrew his fingers.

With that same hand Suga guided his cock to slide along the crack of Daichi’s ass until it was wet with the slick there. And the firm press of hot flesh so close to where he wanted made yet more wetness slip out of his now stretched hole.

“Suga,” was all he said and this time it was Suga who shivered like he was overcome. But he nodded against Daichi’s neck and slowly, surely, slid home.

Daichi took a huge breath in and held it for a long moment, then let it out shakily before gasping in another. It was so much, the stretch, the heat-induced need for  _ now, more, faster _ , and the feeling of rightness that overcame him in that moment. Even as the first sensation waned and his body adjusted, the last grew stronger. Daichi skimmed his hands down Suga’s back and marveled at the simple fact that he could. He wasn’t thinking straight anymore, but in a whole other way. Before he could second guess himself he pressed a kiss into Suga’s hair and spoke.

“Move.” It came out as a whisper, half demand, half plea, and said a million other things in just that one syllable. Daichi wondered if Suga heard it, but he must have heard at least part of it because he eased out before rocking back in.

Daichi in that moment couldn’t think of anything that compared to this. Not a perfect recieve or a powerful spike. Not winning a tournament or acing his exams. This was the best feeling in the world as Suga set up a gentle, steady rhythm. It felt like everything he’d ever wanted but convinced himself he’d never have, everything, and yet still not quite enough.

“Harder. I can take it,” he said, voice wrecked as he bucked up to meet each thrust.

“I know,” Suga said, soft, sure, and warm.

“So _ give it to me _ .”

Suga’s lips moved against Daichi’s collarbone, as if he were speaking some secret that only Daichi’s skin could know.

But before Daichi could ask him what he had said, Suga braced his arms and fucked his hips quick and deep making Daichi’s eyes roll back in his head a little.

Everything went a kind of fuzzy after that. The pace Suga set was fast and brutal and perfect. Daichi was fairly sure he was making sounds because at one point Suga pulled back far enough to look him in the eye and there was something awed and deeply satisfied in Suga’s expression. And Daichi could still feel the echo of his heat, in his oversensitive skin that seemed to register every drop of sweat that beaded up, in his hazy thoughts, in how little he cared about the, no doubt embarrassing, sounds he was making. But mostly it was just so good that he forgot the why of it, forgot everything but the feeling of Suga moving inside him.

He dug blunt nails into Suga, one hand on his ass, the other cupping a shoulder blade. He realized somewhere in the back of his mind that he was chanting, saying the same words over and over.

“So good, so good, so go-” until the syllables blurred and he was saying “Suga, Suga, Suga,” in that same praising, reverential tone.

His orgasm grew and roiled and threatened to burst inside him. He swore he could hear Suga’s heart beating, and maybe it was just his own, but maybe it was a mixture of the two: bodies in sync down to the blood in their veins.

He felt it when Suga’s knot began to swell, the way it tugged at his rim, the way it forced Suga’s thrusts to turn short and sharp. The stretch was too much and impossible and perfect and it just kept growing until Suga was just barely rocking, tense all over as if waiting for something.

Daichi didn’t know precisely what it was, but he took a guess.

“Please. Come for me,” he said, just loud enough to be heard and Suga came with a guttural whine. And Daichi could feel it, he could feel Suga’s cock throbbing inside him as his knot expanded that last little bit. He wanted so badly to come that his hand barely had time to cup his cock before his own orgasm broke like a thunderhead, pleasure rolling over and through him until he was left wrung out and gasping.

For a minute he was lost in the sensation and the aftershocks. But slowly his mind came back to him, clearer than it had been since before practice, and there, as close as anyone could be, breathing the same air, trembling slightly all over, was Suga. Without conscious thought Daichi’s hands smoothed soothingly up and down Suga’s back.

Daichi was aware of how easy it would be for Suga to lift his head and meet Daichi’s eyes. He was aware of how Suga didn’t do it.

He was aware of the silence and how easy it would be to fill. He said nothing, and thought instead. This moment, it seemed to him, perhaps more than any match or tournament, was a test to see which one of them was braver.

But as the silence and the tension stretched it also changed. Their breathing slowed and the sweat cooled and maybe it was just the endorphins but Daichi relaxed into the bed. Suga stayed tense though, holding himself up on his forearms and fuck the test, fuck bravery, their friendship had never been a competition and it wasn’t going to start now. They had always been a team and right now Suga’s arms were shaking and he must be tired and everything else could be dealt with later.

“Hey.” Daichi breathed, quietly enough that even so close Suga could pretend it was just an exhalation if he wanted to.

But he didn’t.

“Hi.”

“You should… relax-” Daichi swallowed at the tiny way Suga’s breath hitched. It was so different from Suga telling him to relax just a while before. “I can take your weight, at least for a little while. Give you a break?”

Suga did nothing for a moment, just stayed exactly as he was and Daichi couldn’t help but be distracted by the feeling of Suga’s knot still locked inside him. It was an embarrassing slip of focus, like having your eyes drop to someone’s lips in the middle of a conversation, but Daichi was used to such slip-ups when it came to Suga and he rallied his thoughts.

He knew Suga was thinking of a way to argue. 

“Don’t be difficult,” was all he said, with just a hint of annoyance.

“You’re sure?” Suga and he was echoing again, words lining up with what he had said before and everything was full and tense and hard. Daichi sighed, feeling off balance. Things had never been this hard for the two of them.

“Yes, Suga. I’m sure.”

Carefully, as if Daichi was a brand new book the spine of which he didn’t want to crack, Suga lowered himself down until he rested his full weight on Daichi’s chest. His nose now rested just above Daichi’s collarbone and his hands curled limply on the bed by Daichi’s sides.

The pressure was too much at first but became manageable as Daichi adjusted to it. He just had to breathe more carefully and more deeply past the weight on his chest.

And now, at least, Suga was somewhat relaxed. Daichi’s hands had unconsciously started running through the shorter hair at the back of Suga’s neck.

There was something deeply peaceful about being pressed chest to chest, Suga’s heartbeat pounding just slightly off beat where Daichi could feel it against his own ribcage. 

Without any conscious thought, Daichi slid into sleep.

* * *

 

9.

Love was rarely easy.

To be exact, love was  _ never  _ easy. Love was work. 

If you’re lucky it was the fun kind of work, an enjoyable hobby, like gardening can be: difficult, sweaty, time-consuming, but ultimately rewarding.

Love was taking two vines and carefully intertwining them. Not completely, each one had to have space to breathe, but close enough that they supported one another. It was making sure they grow together and don’t crowd one another and that neither one took too much water or soil at the detriment of the other. It was about two living things, creating a new kind of life, in harmony.

And if you put in the work, put in the time, and if you’re a little lucky in the first place, you can come out of it with something so strong that it can weather any storm.

* * *

 

8.

“Suga?” Daichi mumbled, still mostly asleep.

He had been aware at some point of a weight being lifted from his chest, but he had been sleeping too deeply to understand what the change signified. Now that wakefulness clawed at his mind though, he knew.

He kept his eyes closed, not ready to open them to whatever waited on the other side, whatever new world this was.

Instead he groped blindly around until he ascertained that no, Suga was definitely not on the bed anywhere. He listened but heard nothing. He realized his senses weren’t heightened as they had been earlier. Nor was the heat haze back in full force yet. Instead Daichi felt, more or less, himself, as he had before he’d fallen asleep. Except now without a wave of endorphins clouding his judgement in a different kind of way.

He paused. Waited for the guilt or the shame or the regret to hit him.

But there was nothing. He was worried. About where Suga was, about the rest of his heat, about their friendship after his heat was over. But he was also so deeply grateful that he’d had this, just once.

He couldn’t regret that.

So he opened his eyes. Whatever change he had wrought, he would weather it.

There was a note on the bedside table. It wasn’t Suga’s usual smooth, careful handwriting but a shaky scrawl instead.

_ I’m in the kitchen _ , it read. Underneath something had been scratched out. Daichi didn’t try to decipher it, too relieved that there was a note at all.

He got up, taking stock of where he was sore and where his muscles twitched. He slipped on some underwear and an undershirt but restrained himself from getting fully dressed because based solely on the clothes still littering the floor, Suga was still mostly undressed. As he walked down the hall toward the kitchen the smell of cooking became noticeable and his stomach growled just as he remembered that he hadn’t had anything to eat since before practice. 

Suga was grilling something on the stove which smelled delicious. His back was to Daichi but he still turned as soon as Daichi rounded the corner.

“Hey. Food should be another few minutes.”

“You didn’t have to cook for me.”

“We both know I’m the better cook anyway,” Suga said with a smile which disappeared a second later as he turned back to the stove, “plus it seemed like you needed the rest.”

Daichi didn't know what to say to that. So he settled for an insufficient, “Thanks.”

Suga just nodded, back still turned. And Daichi didn't like that, didn't like not being able to see Suga’s face. So he stepped further into the room, until he was standing next to Suga by the stove.

Suga darted a glance over at him but Daichi was waiting and he caught Suga’s eyes.

“Thank you,” he said, sincere and too large in the space between them. Two words trying to mean so many more, trying to encompass ‘for everything’ without saying it.

“No,” Suga said, “don't thank me for this.”

“Why?”

“I didn't do it for the thanks.” Which, didn't make sense, of course Suga didn't do it for the thanks, he did it because Daichi needed him and between the two of them it had never been any more complicated than ‘what do you need?’

“I know that,” Daichi said, “but you were-”

“What?” Suga asked and his eyes were intense and focused on Daichi's face.

Suddenly Daichi didn't quite know what he'd been planning to say.

“It was perfect.” Because that was at least the uncomplicated truth.

Suga ducked his head and turned back to the cooking, pushing the food around the pan, fiddling with the heat, intent.

“How are you feeling?” he asked finally, not looking over at Daichi.

“Better. More myself.”

Suga swallowed.

“That's good,” he said, nodding.

So they stood there, in the darkening kitchen in shirts and underwear until the food was ready. Not touching, not speaking. And maybe if Daichi thought it hard enough then the silence wouldn't feel awkward.

It worked a little bit. Suga's shoulders gradually came down from around his ears and when the food was ready he swayed over and nudged Daichi with his elbow, motioning him to sit.

Daichi smiled and maybe rolled his eyes a little bit, because there was certainly a reason the first years had taken to calling Suga “mom” behind his back. And occasionally to his face for that matter.

But he sat at the table obligingly anyway, and watched as Suga went over to the cupboard with the plates. He took one out and reached for another before stopping suddenly and turning around.

“Do you want me to go?” he said, voice strained but face carefully blank.

“No. Why would I want you to go?”

“Well, you said you were feeling more yourself. I thought-” He stumbled to a stop, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then opened them again. “Just because we had sex once doesn't mean you have to have sex with me again.”

Daichi couldn't help the way his breath caught a little in his chest as “we had sex” because fuck if it didn't still feel like some impossible fevered dream.

Then his mind caught up with the rest of Suga's words.

“What? Of course it doesn't. But my heat isn't over yet. Unless,” now it was Daichi's turn to swallow thickly. “Do you want to go?”

“This isn’t about what I want.”

“Like hell it’s not.” And now he felt almost panicky. What if this had all been a mistake? What if Suga had felt pressured into it all? “Did you want any of this?”

Everything was closing in, narrowing down to that moment and the next words that were going to come out of Suga’s mouth, whatever they may be.

Suga’s hands made a complicated gesture and he looked overwhelmed and Daichi wanted this to be over but he had to hear Suga’s answer. Finally, Suga seemed to deflate and he sighed.

“Too much.”

“What?”

“I wanted it too much. I took advantage and I’m sorry. I can go now.”

“What? No,” he said, to the idea of Suga leaving, but Suga flinched and Daichi had to explain, “don't go. Stay. What does that mean?”

Suga closed his eyes and spoke mostly to the floor.

“It means I like you, I want you, that is, I l- _ like _ like you. And I have for a long time.”

Daichi's brain stuttered, stalled, rolled to a stop. This hadn't been in the realm of possibility a moment ago. Daichi was almost tempted to think it was a joke. But Suga didn't lie, wouldn't joke about this, and most importantly Daichi, now that he was looking, could see the truth in every line of Suga's tense body, in his eyes still scrunched closed and his fingers attempting to tie themselves in knots. This was really happening.

Suga was still talking, apologizing, as Daichi stood slowly. Careful not to interrupt, Daichi walked across the kitchen until he was standing in front of Suga. He waited for a pause and then asked, voice gentle, “Are you done?”

Suga startled, obviously not expecting Daichi to be right there, and his fingers went white-knuckled where they were twisted in front of him. Gently Daichi took Suga's hands between his.

“Thank you for telling me.”

Suga nodded mutely.

“I always knew you were braver than me,” Daichi said, “I should have said that a long time ago but I was always too scared. I didn't want to make it awkward for you.”

“Wait, what are you saying?” And now Suga's face was doing something complicated, a dance between disbelief and hope with a dose of lingering fear.

“Everything you said, I feel that way too. I like you in every sense. You're my best friend and I haven't gone a day in the past four years without thinking about kissing you-”

“Fuck.” Suga swore even more rarely than Daichi, but it seemed warranted at the moment. He looked absolutely bowled over, like his mind was going through the same quick assessment Daichi's had: ‘Joke? Daichi wouldn't joke about this. Misunderstanding? There wasn't really a way to misconstrue that.’ 

Finally settling on another: “Fuck.”

“Yeah.” Daichi agreed but his shock was slowly seeping into the earth and joy was rapidly growing in its place.

Suga laced their fingers together, with only a hint of hesitation and when Daichi squeezed Suga squeezed back so hard it almost hurt.

“I can't believe us.” Suga said.

“We're such  _ idiots _ .” Daichi agreed, but he was smiling fit to split. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

With careful hands and a light heart and a clear head, Daichi cupped his jaw and kissed him. He had never felt something so close to perfect.

* * *

 

10.

Love is not easy. But the work is transferable. Different kinds of love carry over. And loving a friend is planting a garden you never expect to grow, but loving it anyway. It's tending your plants and arranging your pots and one day you look out and all the tiny green buds you almost missed will have sprung into gorgeous blooms. And your trees with bare fruit and the vines will grow strong and you will know that every ounce of work and every bead of sweat and every hour you spent in that garden was completely and utterly  _ worth it. _


End file.
